by jerks of the hand, lifting of shoulders, or the faintest of
whisperings.

A jar against the side of the boat sent one or other of the two out to
look, to greet a newcomer or to fend off a drift log. A low whistle from
the stern took Buck through the aisle between the staterooms to the
kitchen where a rat-eyed little man waited him on the stern deck,

"Lo, Buck! I'm drappin' down in a hurry; I learn yo' was heah. Theh's a
feller drapping down out the Ohio; he's lookin' fo' a feller name of
Jock Drones--didn't hear what for. Yo' know 'im?"

"Nope, but I'll pass the word around."

"S'long!"

"Jock Drones--huh!" Buck repeated, turning into the lamp-lit kitchen
where Slip was sniffing the coffee pot.

"Friend of mine just stopped," Buck whispered. "There's a detective
coming down out of the Ohio. Told me to pass the word around. He's after
somebody by the name of Drones, Dock or Jock Drones."

Slip started, turned white, and his jaws parted. Buck's eyes opened a
little wider.

"S'all right, Slip! Keep your money in your belt, to be ready to run or
swim. It's a long river."

Slip could not trust himself to speak. Buck, patting him on the
shoulder, went on into the card room and closed the kitchen door behind
him, drawing the aisle curtains shut, too, so that no one would go back
until Slip had recovered his equilibrium.

CHAPTER XII

Augustus Carline instinctively slowed down his motorboat and took to
looking at the wide river, its quivering, palpitating surface; its
vistas at which he had to "look twice to see the end," as the river man
says with whimsical accuracy.

Negligent and thoughtless, he could now feel some things which had never
occurred to him before: his loneliness, his doubts, his very
helplessness and indecision. His wife had been like an island around
which he sailed and cruised, sure in his consciousness that he could
return at any time to that safe mooring. He had returned to find the
island gone, himself adrift on a boundless ocean, and he did not know
which way to turn. The cays and islets, the interesting rocks and the
questionable coral reefs supplied him with not the slightest semblance
of shelter, support, or safety.

He did not even know which side of the river to go to, nor where to
begin his search. He was wistful for human companionship, but as he
looked at the distant shanty-boats, and passed a river town or two, he
found himself diffident and shamed.

He saw a woman